


Jigsaw Falling Into Place

by marryfuckkillhanniballecter



Category: Hannibal (TV), Rejseholdet | Unit One
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Beverly Katz's aliiiiiiive, Crossover, Established Relationship, Established Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, M/M, Mads Mikkelsen's a fucking amazing actor, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, Recreational Drug Use, Season 2ish, Smoking, naked men yay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-21
Updated: 2015-09-21
Packaged: 2018-04-22 16:24:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4842314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marryfuckkillhanniballecter/pseuds/marryfuckkillhanniballecter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thomas LaCour is invited by Will Graham to give a lecture for the FBI Academy opening day. The room is completely packet, which made him very anxious, but less so when he spots his long missed friend Allan Fischer on the crowd.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jigsaw Falling Into Place

**Author's Note:**

> I just finished watching Unit One and I miss it already? :/ All of you fannibals who haven't watched it already, please, do! It's not that great, but it's really good. And for those who have, please, I'm not the only one who saw sparks flying around between Fischer and LaCour, right? D: Anyway, fuck this, hope you enjoy it! :*

A well-built, confident and rather mysterious man landed on the Washington Dulles International Airport on a meek Tuesday morning, even though it was still supposed to be summer. He rushed through the crowds to get a cab.

“Hi,” he said, with a charming smile and a distant accent. “I need to get to the FBI Academy.”

The driver said the cost and how much time it would take. The man nodded, sat on the back seat and set his suitcase aside. He got his cellphone on his jacket pocket and dialed a number.

“Crawford, hi!”  

“Hi, Fischer. Did you get on DC ok?” Jack Crawford said, on the other side of the phone.

“I did, thanks! When does the lecture start again?” Fischer asked.

“1 pm, more or less. Graham’s usually on time but you never know. I hope he’s gonna be extra careful, though, since we have an international guest.” While he listened to Jack, he asked the driver if there was any problem to smoke in the vehicle. Receiving a shrug, he went on to light his cigarette and look out the window.

“Oh, well, you know how they’re. You just gotta trust them.”

“Yeah, that’s what’s been saving my skin for the past couple months. Anyway, see you soon. Oh, and welcome back to Virginia, Fischer!”

“Thanks, Crawford. Bye!.”

Both hung up. Fischer put the phone back to his jacket pocket and got out a leaflet for the afternoon lecture he didn’t really need to attend, other than for personal reasons. He smiled upon reading the lecturer’s name for the hundredth time.

In the middle of an enormous and packet lecture hall, on a relatively big stage, stood a fidgety man with combed back hair who was visibly uncomfortable in his clothes. By his side was a slightly few years older man, not as nervous but still very. The chatter around the room annoyed them both immensely. The younger man moved to the microphone. “Is this on?” He asked himself under his breath.

“May I have your attention, please?” He said. “Hello, I’m Will Graham. As you might know, I teach some the people present here. Thank you all for coming. Without further ado, I’ll let our guest introduce himself.”

Will stepped aside, looked around and found two friendly faces. The one on the right padded the seat next to her. He sat down, took a deep breath and relaxed.

“Will, come on. It’s not like it’s you up there. That’s actually a very nice way to start their academic year. And to loose some of the pressure on you. I see what you did there.”

She smiled at him with a raised eyebrow. The man on the left gave him a reassuring smile and held his shoulder.

“Thanks, Bev!" He gave her a mocking displeased smile, "And thanks, Hannibal." A more genuine one to him. All of them looked ahead.

The man at the stage fumbled with some papers. Having better organized them, he cleared his throat. “Sorry.” He smiled shyly. “Uhm, thank you, Mr. Graham. Hello, my name’s Thomas LaCour. And I’m here to tell you a bit about how we catch serial killers in Denmark.”

As soon as he gave his back to the crowd to point at something on the slides above his head, Fischer entered the hall out of breath and found a seat at a far corner. As LaCour looked back to the crowd, he noticed as the door was closing and some people looking slightly to the side and saw him. He gaped for a second. He could feel the warm smile even meters away. He smiled back and went on with the lecture, a lot more at ease.

A couple hours and a massive wave of applause later, Fischer practically ran towards the stage. Hannibal looked at him going straight for LaCour and raised an curious eyebrow. Fischer stopped on his tracks and waited for his friend to descend the flight of stairs. One in front of the other, LaCour looked timidly down and up again at his eyes. Fischer tried but couldn’t contain his grin.

“Hello. What a coincidence seeing you here.” Fischer said, in Danish, as the rest of the exchange.

“Fischer, please.” LaCour raised an eyebrow.

He opened his arms and was taken aback by Fischer’s hug. Fischer then held his friend’s head in his hand.

“How have you been? How’s Helene? And I can only imagine Marie’s huge. Have you spoken to Ingrid or the others?” He asked away. Being awashed by so many questions, LaCour could only laugh fondly.

“I’m good, thank you. Helene’s ok, we aren’t together anymore but we’re still friends… Marie’s the sweetest thing. She’s 12 now. And I believe Victor’s 15?”

“Around that age, yeah. Wow, kids grow so fast… And what a shame about you and Helene, huh? Hopefully you didn’t point a gun to her head again.” He snorted.

“Fischer!” He gaped at him, and laughed quietly. “Anyway, I haven’t spoken to Ingrid in a while but she’s the chief of the police now.”

“That’s great! I should ring her and chat for old time’s sake!” He said, wondering aloud.

“You should. You should call me too.” LaCour looked at him, and then at the carpet.

“You never called either.” Fischer said, searching his eyes.

LaCour looked back at him. “But it wasn’t me who ran away to the States…”

A stretched hand interrupted their impending argument.

“Hello, gentlemen. I am Dr. Hannibal Lecter, Will’s partner.” He shook both their hands, “I came to invite you for dinner at my house this evening as a welcoming gift, Mr. LaCour. But I would be happy to extend the offer to you too, Mr…”

“Fischer. Allan Fischer.”

“Mr. Fischer.” Hannibal smiled.

“I didn’t know you had friends over here, Mr. LaCour.” Will said, approaching the men.

“I didn’t know either.” LaCour said, raising a playful eyebrow at Fischer.

“Yes, he did.” Fischer massaged his back. “We used to work together in Denmark.”

“Oh, so you’re the Danish Jack was talking about?” Will turned to him.

“Yes, I’ve actually taken some courses here before going up to New York. How do you know LaCour? You invited him here, right?”

“A friend of mine, Alana Bloom, worked with Helene on a paper together some years ago and they talked about how my method and LaCour’s were similar. We’ve been emailing some cases and some information back and forth and I invited him to give the opening lecture for this semester…” Will and LaCour exchanged smiles.

“They are such avid pen pals I started feeling a little jealous.” Hannibal said, blinking slowly at each one of them.

“Hannibal!” Will said, disapprovingly but with a shy smile.

“No, they must be too much alike.” Fischer looked them both up and down for a second and smiled to Hannibal. Hannibal looked surprised and amused. Both Will and LaCour had widening eyes.  LaCour cleared his throat.

“Anyhow!” LaCour said, exasperated. “Thank you for the invitation, Dr. Lecter. And Will. At what time should we meet at your place?”

“7 pm.” Hannibal answered.

“Ok, we’ll see you there.” LaCour gave a small smile to the couple, who returned it, nodded and walked away.

The Danes followed them out, brushing shoulders. They spoke in Danish again.

“How long are you staying here?” Fischer asked, searching for his packet of cigarettes on his jacket pocket.

“Until the end of the week. I’ll give some other classes with Will.”

“Hum…” Fischer mumbled, placing the cigar on his lips and lighting it.

Fischer looked at him. “And you?”

“Just for tonight.” Fischer exhaled looking ahead, then at his friend.

“Ok…” LaCour said, avoiding his eyes, looking ahead, then looking back at him and smiling. Fischer laughed quietly and smiled back.

Some steps ahead, Will was trying to figure out what happened. He looked down, then at Hannibal.

Will searched his eyes. “Hannibal?”

“Yes, Will?” Hannibal solely looked at him, then gave a devilish smile.

The empath ran his fingers through his hair, closed his eyes and laughed quietly. Then, he held the doctor by his arm and stood on his toes to give him a peck on the lips.

“You’re unbelievable.” He said, shaking his head. Hannibal just smiled, circling his boyfriend’s middle, resting a hand on his hip, the pair walking off together. 

After checking and rechecking Will’s recommendations and Fischer’s reassurance that Hannibal wouldn’t be upset at all if they didn’t wear three-piece suits, the Danes arrived with a bottle of wine at the Lecter residence, 7 pm sharp.

Will smiled upon opening the door. “Hi! Thank you.” He took the bottle from LaCour’s hand. “Hannibal’s just giving his final touches to the dish’s decoration, because that’s who he is. You can go to the dining room and wait for us, we’ll be there in a sec. Oh, and of course, you can put you coats over here.”

He went for the kitchen, then came back.

“I’m so sorry. I’ll show you where it is first.”

LaCour and Fischer laughed to themselves, put their coats on the coat rack and followed their host. Will showed them their seats, smiled and rushed back. They sat facing each other.

A few seconds later, Hannibal came with a seemingly delicate and beautiful piece of meat on his hands.

“Hello, Mr. LaCour. Mr. Fischer.” The doctor nodded at them, smiling, then placed the dish in front of their guests. He started serving them.

Will came back, filled all their wine glasses and sat on his seat next to LaCour. Hannibal sat in front of him, next to Fischer.

“Wow, this smells amazing. What is it?” Fischer asked him, marveled.

“Tenderloin.” Hannibal answered with a smile, savoring a bite of the meat.

LaCour chewed his bite and swallowed, while Will observed him by the corner of his eye. “Pig?”

“Of course.” Hannibal ran his tongue through his teeth looking at his plate, then smiled at him. Fischer looked him up and down with his fork midair, then raised it to his lips.

“So, Dr. Lecter…” Fischer wondered aloud.

“Please, call me Hannibal.” He smiled at him. “God only knows how much it took for Will to call me by my first name.” They all laughed.

“Oh, yeah… He was so eager he almost killed me.” Will gave a mock smile at Hannibal. With his chin on his hand, elbow resting on the table, he scratched his beard. “But you were going to ask something, right, Fischer?”

“Yeah, I just noticed. Your accent isn’t American, is it?” Fischer looked his way, chewing a bite.

“It is not. I’m from Lithuania.”

“You’re almost our neighbor then! What made you come all this way?” LaCour asked, smiling at him.

“I believe it is for the very same reason you’re here, LaCour. I was not sure what I was looking for, not even that I was looking for something, but I happened to find it anyway.” He smiled back, then rested his eyes on Will fondly.

Will smiled fondly at him back. Then he didn’t. “Don’t.” And then he laughed quietly, catching a charmed look from Hannibal.

It was Fischer’s time to gape at them, while LaCour was clearly blushing, eating and looking at his plate. He bit his lips nervously looking at his friend, then snorted a laugh and drank most of his glass of wine.

After they all finished their meals, Hannibal invited them for tea at the living room. The Danes agreed, following Will and both sat on one of the luxurious blue couches near a harpsichord. Will went to the kitchen, excusing himself.

“I can’t believe you’re actually doing this.” Will said, with his hands on the black counter right in front of Hannibal.

“Why should I not? I’m just helping our new friends find themselves.” Hannibal said, while pouring a clear auburn liquid unto four white and silver-rimmed porcelain teacups.

“Hannibal, they’re police officers!” Will said, adjusting an imaginary pair of glasses.

Hannibal smiled at him. “They are also very fond of each other. You worry too much, Will. Trust me.” He handed him a cup.

“Just…” Will exhaled. “Please, don’t kill them, ok?” Will took a sip from his cup, then handed back for Hannibal to refill and placed it on the tray with the others.

“I do not believe they’ll give me a reason to.” Hannibal stretched his hand and pulled Will forward by his neck, meeting his lips for an avid kiss. Will could already feel the rivulets of foggy joy coursing through his veins, holding Hannibal’s face with both his hand to deepen the kiss. They split a few seconds later, with Will biting his bottom lip slightly. He took hold of the tray and turned to the living room. Just behind him, Hannibal smacked his ass and walked forwards, pretending not to leave a flushed and wide eyed Will behind. 

Hannibal met a loudly laughing Fischer and a grinning LaCour and smiled at them, followed by Will, who put the tray on the coffee table just before them. Hannibal sat on the opposite matching couch and padded his side for Will to sit.

“Dr. Lecter, sorry, Hannibal, do you care if I smoke?” He asked, showing a packet of cigars to his host.

“Not at all. And, please, help yourselves.” Hannibal smiled, gesturing for the teacups.

LaCour, Will and Hannibal raised their tea and sipped quietly, while Fischer exhaled. The empath rested his head back on the couch, easing the collar of his shirt a little. Hannibal grinned and turned to him, massaging his knee. Fischer held his cup to his lips, while LaCour laughed quietly and gaped at their hosts.

“Is this psilocybin?” He looked alternatively at both of them.

“What?” Fischer took a sip of his tea, sniffed it, shrugged and sipped again.

“It is. I’m certain you will enjoy it.” Hannibal answered, with a hand on Will’s neck, looking at them. Will did the same, through already heavy lashes and loose smile. The couple kissed sensuously, with Hannibal’s hand riding ever further Will’s leg, making him moan silently.

“Ok, then...” Fischer said, exchanging curious looks with LaCour, while looking at their hosts. “Are they trying to show us what we should be doing?” He asked him in Danish.

LaCour held his breath and laughed into his hand. “I think so…?”

Will came up from the kiss, looking dreamy, and asked LaCour.

“Say, Thomas, you said you played the piano, right?” Will asked. Hannibal gave the Dane an intrigued look. “Why don’t you play for us?”

“But that’s a…”

“It’s the same thing.” Will said, while lying on the couch and propping his legs on the doctor’s lap. “Hannibal just likes his drama even more dramatic.”  

Hannibal raised him a doubtful eyebrow, while Will answered with a mocking one. They both laughed it off quietly. Hannibal then started to take Will’s shoes off. LaCour looked at Fischer for support.

“Go on with your nifty pick locking fingers. Hop, hop!” Fischer pointed to the harpsichord with his head, then nodded and grinned at his friend. LaCour squeezed himself by his side and ruffled his hair, mouthing a Danish “thank you.” He climbed up, thought about something for a second, then held Fischer’s face in his hands and kissed him. Just as quickly, he came back up and walked to the harpsichord. He sat on the bench and started playing the first notes of _Pa_ _vane pour une infante défunte._ Fischer also laid back on the couch, looking first at the couple beside him, Hannibal kissing Will’s legs through his suspendered navy blue socks, then at the smoky spirals of his cigarette. LaCour looked back, searching Fischer’s eyes while playing, finding them and smiling, receiving a fond smile back. Then, Fischer decided to sit by LaCour’s side and so he did. He circled his back and held him by the hip, resting the side of his face on his neck. A few seconds later, he started kissing his neck longingly. LaCour never stopped playing, feeling the sadly forgotten but now very vivid warmth of Allan Fischer.

Meanwhile, Will watched the Danes and smiled, cursing and thanking Hannibal on his mind for being so bold. He pulled the doctor from his knee, hugging his neck and kissing him deeply again, making him pin him down between his arms, with a knee supporting him and the other lazily brushing the empath’s erection.

LaCour took Fischer’s cigarette from his hand and took a drag, leaving it lazily on his lips, smiling to him. The other man, then, started talking sweet Danish nothings on his ear while he massaged his leg dangerously.

Will tugged at his shirt, signaling for Hannibal to take it off. He unbuttoned it, while kissing chest and stomach each button away. The doctor also unbuttoned and took off Will’s pants swiftly, leaning in again for their kiss. Will brushed the side of Hannibal’s torso with his knee and socked leg, hearing him groan every now and then, which made him smile further. He then noticed LaCour wasn’t playing anymore, stretching his neck for Hannibal to devour and looking their way. He saw Fischer sat on the keyboard, with his back resting on the instrument, being bent over and kissed by a very eager and unabashed LaCour, who knelt on the bench. He smiled and looked up, throwing his arms back on the arm of the couch, enjoying Hannibal’s kisses going ever so slowly downward, mouthing his erection through black cotton.      

LaCour and Fischer came up from the kiss breathless, touching foreheads and laughing, then giving each other pecks on their lips. Fischer spread his legs further, pulled LaCour by his ass and rubbed their growing erections, gyrating his hips, hearing his friend’s moans and torturing the harpsichord. LaCour laughed and pulled him to sit on his lap on the bench. Fischer straddled him, still pressing their groins against each other. They rested on each other’s foreheads, sharing their breath, Fischer with a perpetuous oval on his mouth, every now and then kissed by panting LaCour. He hugged him by his neck, undulating his hips up and down on the other’s, groaning endlessly. Looking forward, he saw both Will and Hannibal completely, well, mostly naked, apart from their socks and suspenders. The doctor’s broad shoulders and muscular ass also moved up and down, his face nowhere to be found, only to be supplemented by Will’s quite hairless chest, reddening neck, oval shaped mouth and his own arm over his eyes.

Fischer looked to the ceiling, with LaCour’s hands underneath his shirt, propping him upwards, and felt his orgasm wash over him, and his underpants. He took deep breaths, recovered and set to palm LaCour to completion, which didn’t take long. He had his eyes closed, bent forcefully forward on Fischer’s chest, mouthing his neck while his hand rode him to the very end. They giggled and gave shallow kisses on each other’s lips while listening to Will’s beautiful whines while he came.

The next morning, the Danes woke on each other’s aching limbs, on their couch, to the smell of sausages and eggs. Fischer ruffled LaCour’s hair and wished him good morning, receiving a deep kiss back. They got up lazily and followed the delicious scent. They found Will on boxer shorts, reading a newspaper with his glasses on, sipping coffee, sat on one of the counter stools. They also found Hannibal, on pajama bottoms, cooking what seemed to be breakfast for an entire medieval family.

“Good morning, you two. How’re you feeling?” Will said, with an open smile on his face.

“Good morning.” Hannibal looked over his shoulder, then went back to their almost done meal.

LaCour said “I… really need a shower”, while Fischer said, at the same time “I’m sore all over.” They exchanged quiet laughs.

“All over, you say?” The doctor said, with a suggestive smile, while arranging their plates.

“Oh!” Fischer gaped, then shrugged. “Well, who am I kidding?” He stole a kiss from an embarrassed LaCour, making them all grin and laugh fondly at each other.


End file.
